The Ingoldsby Legends: Or, Mirth and Marvels

Worthington Company, 1890 - 406 páginas

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Página 206 - King Stephen was a worthy peer, His breeches cost him but a crown; He held them sixpence all too dear, With that he call'd the tailor lown. "He was a wight of high renown, And thou art but of low degree. 'Tis pride that pulls the country down; Then take thine auld cloak about thee.
Página 406 - No more a youth was there, But a Maiden rent her haire, And cried in sad despaire "That I was borne!" As I laye a-thynkynge, she perished forlorne. As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, Sweetly sang the Birde as she sat upon the briar; There came a lovely Childe, And his face was meek and mild, Yet joyously he smiled On his sire; As I laye a-thynkynge, a Cherub mote admire.
Página 138 - He sent for Mr. Whithair then, and I described " the swag," My Mackintosh, my sugar-tongs, my spoons, and carpetbag; He promised that the New Police should all their powers employ ; But never to this hour have I beheld that vulgar Boy! MORAL Remember, then, what when a boy I've heard my Grandma tell, "Be warn'd in time by others' harm, and you shall do full well!
Página 135 - " Cheer up ! cheer up! my little man— cheer up !" I kindly said, " You are a naughty boy to take such things into your head : If you should jump from off the pier...
Página 137 - I'm told, their use, — It's very odd that Sailoi-men should wear those things so loose. I did not understand him well, but think he meant to -say He'd seen that little vulgar Boy, that morning, swim away In Captain. Large's Royal George, about an hour before, And they were now, as he supposed, ' somewhfres
Página 400 - For then my head would not be on, My arms their shoulders must abandon ; My very body would be gone, I should not have a leg to stand on.
Página 135 - Ah! I haven't got no supper ! and I haven't got no ma ! — "My father, he is on the seas — my mother's dead and gone ! And I am here, on this here pier, to roam the world alone ; I have not had, this livelong day, one drop to cheer my heart, Nor 'brown' to buy a bit of bread with— let alone a tart.
Página 98 - To see, and when seen it's as rarely forgot. Yes, Ingoldsby Abbey is fair to see, And its Monks and its Nuns are fifty and three, And there they all stand each in their degree, Drawn up in the front of their sacred abode, Two by two in their regular mode, While a funeral comes down the Rochester road. Palmers twelve, from a foreign strand, Cockle in hat, and staff in hand, Come marching in pairs, a holy band ! Little boys twelve...
Página 210 - ... surely, when the level ray Of some mild eve's descending sun Lights on the village pastor, grey In years ere ours had well begun — As there — in simplest vestment clad, He speaks, beneath the churchyard tree, In solemn tones, — but yet not sad, — Of what Man is — what Man shall be ! And clustering round the grave, half hid By that same quiet churchyard yew, The rustic mourners bend, to bid The dust they loved a last adieu...

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